Work Text:
My Dearest Nobita,
You were the boy next door who became my friend.
I spent every day with you.
From going to school, walking down that street with Gian and Suneo by our side.
Using Doraemons gadgets to try and catch butterflies in the mountain behind the school.
We would play pretend with Doraemons gadgets and then get in trouble when he found out.
I would leave every now and then. To go visit my grandma in the city.
I had no choice. You are the boy next door with no worries because you had Doraemon. I had my parents, but no one else who was as close to me as you were with Doraemon.
My dearest Nobita, I wish I could’ve taken you with me.
The last time I saw you, I had to tell you some news.
I knew that you had already heard but I wanted you to hear it from me.
I would be moving away. Far, far away. Not to the city. To another country where dreams are supposed to come true.
Nobita why were you not mad? Why were you not upset?
I just told you i’m leaving and yet you’re here smiling and telling me not to sit next to the window on the plane because I might fall.
I knew I couldn’t fall out of the plane window, but we were kids with big imaginations and dreams bigger than the universe.
I miss you.
I miss talking to you Nobita.
I miss your laugh, your voice and you living a few houses down.
I miss knowing that there was someone out there who was my best friend no matter what.
Our parents thought we would marry each other.
I used to picture us sitting next to the lake, holding hands then you would tell me “I love you” which was a promise you kept in real life.
Every birthday I woke up to a “Happy Birthday” with a long string of messages.
But we were distant, physically and emotionally.
You would text every now and then, but I never responded.
you asked questions that I didn’t have the answers to.
“When are you coming back?”
“Have you forgotten about me?”
“Do you still miss me?”
Turns out the simplest questions have the most complicated answers.
No. I never forgot about you.
I still imagine us standing in front of our families. You gently holding my hand, the hand with the ring, saying “I do.”
But reality doesn’t mimic fiction.
I haven’t spoken to you in over 10 years.
However “I love you too” I a promise I never break.
Your friend once upon a time,
Shizuka